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User blog:WayfinderOwl/Behind The Mask: Introduction
If You Can't Beat 'Em, Join 'Em Starting a new life is hard. Luckily for me, I’ve done this every three or four months since I was in diapers. Most kids are born for love or a drunken mistake. I was neither. Nothing plucks at the heart strings more than a down on their luck family with a starving kid in toe. That is where I come in. I have to be just about anything; from the hooligan flying off the rails, or a dying kid in a wheelchair. Some days I wonder if my parents had a soul. Until the day they shaved my head bald, and told the entire block I was dying of cancer. That one was the last straw. For three years, I begged them to send me off to boarding school. I would be no loss to them at all. They could just have another. At fifteen, and no longer young enough to catch a sympathetic eye, I got my wish. Bullworth Academy. The place where fighting to survive took a more literal meaning. I left the main office, having met the principal with an unnecessary fixation on a clean nose, I was ready to start my life anew. At least one year where I knew my parents couldn’t up root me. My reflection caught my eye in the glass of the display case. No matter how much I tried to smooth it down, my hair always seemed to grow up instead of down. “Hey!” I uttered. A skinny kid with a left parted low fade bumped into me, as if either didn’t see me or didn’t care. In the brown of his eyes, I swear I saw evil. A look that told me this kid was the last person I should have anything to do with. The same manipulative cruel stare I saw in my father. He walked by me as if I was nothing more than part of the display case. Suited me more than fine. I heard my own name being called out. Not from a teacher. A small kid with a pink shirt. “Are you Joshua Hyde?” I nodded. “Yeah, that’s me. I prefer Josh, actually.” “Peter Kowalski. Or Pete. Petey. I’ll pretty much answer to anything.” He extended a friendly hand, which I shook. “Um, Pete, who was that kid just then?” “Gary. He lives in the dorm next to mine. No one will share a dorm with him. Trust me, everything you hear about him, it is true.” Just as I suspected. “Gotcha. Avoid at all costs. How do you know me?” “The school started a buddy system. It blows, but I get extra credit.” “Oh, cool. No need to give me the whole tour thing. Or give me the lowdown on who is who. If you wanna split, I’ll tell any teacher who asks you gave me the full tour. It sucks being stuck with the new kid.” “No, no. I wouldn’t do that. To be honest Gym is bringing my grades down, and I’m not exactly swamped with friends. Best of both.” Nothing about what he said surprised me. A kid with a pink shirt was just as uncool as the new kid. “Want a soda? There is a vending machine just down the stairs. My treat.” “Cool man. Next one is on me.” I walked down the stairs with Pete. He was a good kid. Just as out of place as me, with nowhere to fit in. Only one choice at the vending machine, a cold can of Beam Cola. I got hooked on this stuff last year, when I had to pretend to be an insomniac who kept wandering up and down the stairwell at night. My veins practically mainstreamed caffeine. “Cheers,” I said, popping open the can. It erupted like a volcano. Fizzy brown sugar water going everywhere, staining my favourite red and black shirt. The slippery can shot out my hand and hit some black kid in a white shirt on the head. “Oh, man,” I muttered, quickly unbuttoning my shirt. At school five seconds, and it is ruined. The black kid shot us a glare. His eyes narrowed on Pete, grabbing him by the vest. Typical bully move. All the evidence pointed to me, but he chose the smaller kid to pick a fight with. “You’re dead, Girly Boy.” “Get off him,” I said, flinging my shirt to the floor. The black kid gave Pete another shake, before letting him go. “Or you’ll be trying what?” Channeling the hooligan kid I played, I turned his own trick on him. Grabbing him by the shirt, other fist raised ready to mark his face with it. I threatened, “Leave him alone, or I’ll stuff that can down your throat.” I flung him to the floor letting go. The black kid scrambled to his feet. “You better watch out, New Kid, Russell will kill you.” He run off, like a dog with its tail between his legs. I fetched my shirt from the ground. “You alright, Pete?” Pete nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. You were pretty scary back there.” “Just an act. My parents made me act like a vandalizing bully at one apartment block we lived at, hoping that everyone in the building would give them money to encourage us to move. Worked pretty well.” “No kidding.” “Who was he anyway?” “Ethan. Part of Russell’s gang. Russell is the last person you want to mess with. Even the Jocks aren’t dumb enough to pick a fight with him.” I pulled a quarter out of my pocket, inserted it into the vending machine coin slot. “What could Russell do to me?” I said, shrugging it off. “Ur, put you in the hospital. The last kid to pick a fight with him ended up in hospital in a body cast.” Oh, shit. Rather than delving deeper into that, I decided a subject change was in order. “Want another?” I collected the can from the slot at the bottom. “Nah, I’m good.” ^^^^ Pete gave me the tour of the school. He was exactly right the place was a dump. Somewhere in this dump was the place I belonged. All of the cliques interested me. Being a part of them was the life blood of the school. Having friends meant nothing, unless you had a bunch of like minded people around you, and a leader to follow. I could do that. Follow orders to belong. My choices were between a big ape of a boy who probably wanted to kill me, a spoiled rich narcissist who would use anyone just because he could, a tough kid from the wrong side of the tracks possessive of a girl that only saw dollar signs, a slimy genius who lacked the muscles needed to run the school, or the playboy quarterback with all looks and no brains. Tough choice to make. We walked by the old car park. A bear roar like voice echoed across the blacktop. “Oi, New Kid.” Even from fifteen feet away, the boy that owned the voice was scary. Big tall, and had the muscles to hospitalize anyone with little effort on his part. This was Russell. No act I could think of would scare him, and I only had ¢50 in my pocket. Hardly enough to pay him off. Pointing a finger at me, he said, “You join Russell’s gang. NOW!” I nodded. What choice did I have? Die or join him. Category:Blog posts Category:WayfinderOwl's Fanfiction